1915 Dear Darling old Mummy-snooks, You are SUCH a DARLING and I know you don't love Daddy and Erik nearly as much as me.

It really is heavenly here and I was a great success in Charley's Aunt. I just know the West End beckons. I will write every week.

Your ever ever ever loving Noël

1921 Dear Ackie Wackie Weeza,

Thank heavens the beastly war is over. It played havoc with my nerves. It's wonderful to be here in New York and I've just met Lynn Fontanne. Do you remember her? She played some small parts in London but now she's become a huge star with her fiance, Alfred Lunt.

All my love, you wicked, grasping old bitch,

Noëlie Wolie Polie

1925 Darling lamb,

GBS has been a little tart with me, but I think Hay Fever and the Vortex will show I have talent. Have met Joyce Carey and Gladys Calthrop; they really are terribly gay even though Paris at this time of a year can be a little de trop

Your darlingest Snoop

1928 Dear Virginia Woolf,

I am hot and glowing after reading Orlando and I am completely at your feet. It is the finest book de nos jours and if I continue to flatter you like this will you agree to become another of my top 500 bestest chums?

Yours, Noël Coward

1935 Darling Marlene, or should that be Darling Achtung? How are you my Prussian cow?

The Baybay has not been managing my accounts very badly and I fear I am in danger of developing a German sense of humour about it all.

Love and kisses, Noël

1941 Darling Stoj,

It's just too, too horrid. Everyone is being nasty, accusing me of doing nothing for the war effort and I'm not allowed to speak out and say that I'm one of the government's top-secret agents.

Don't they realise that getting the Americans onside by writing Don't Let's be Beastly to the Germans has shortened the conflict by several years?

Your miserable Poj

1947 Dearest Toley Coley,

So glad to be back in New York with Marlene. London is so fearfully drab at the moment and no one seems to want my work any more. I've dug out a few plays from the bottom drawer and bashed out some numbers for a revue, but the critics are determined to hate me. Ecris-moi often, ma petite Tolette

Le Maître

1952 Darlingest Queenie,

When I heard the news that the king had died I thought of your loss and cried and cried. But even though your husband is dead I'd be willing to bet you live to a hundred.

Your humble servant,

Noël Coward

1958 Dear dear Larryboy,

Did you not think that Johnny Gielgud was completely underwhelming in Nude with Violin? I hate to be a bitch but it's a shame to see even a moderate talent wasted.

I am also involved in a nasty squabble with John Osborne and Ken Tynan. How can they imagine that people want to see the great unwashed on stage? Isn't it obvious that what the world needs now is a revival of Blithe Spirit? So how about it, Larrikins? Kisses to Vivien,

The Master

1966 Darlings,

Switzerland and Jamaica do pall, I'm coughing myself into a Firenze.

But how things change! It seems that in my dotage I have become a national treasure. Everywhere I go I am feted and CBS have offered me $450,000 for three 90-minute specials. I sense it is time to dust off a few more old manuscripts. But most of all, how I long for a gossip.